


post-it war

by orphan_account



Series: ficlets [5]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, the fight in the bunker doesn't happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:55:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21602584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: They didn’t do it very often, but each one got its reply without a miss. Didn’t matter who started it, if it was a mockery or a genuine message, every single one received its reply; sometimes plain, sometimes cheeky, sometimes dry and still angry. It became a Steve and Tony thing.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: ficlets [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1551151
Comments: 5
Kudos: 184





	post-it war

It started like this. One day, Tony was elbow deep in his Bugatti, when Captain America strode in, fully geared with his cowl pulled back and his pretty face pinched, but what attracted Tony’s attention despite the six foot two American Beefcake was the way he was waving his Starkphone at its inventor’s face.

“Do you not check your phone? I texted you so many times to come up for debriefing.”

Tony pulled his face back, squinting at the man. “Why me?” Because as far as Tony was concerned, debriefing was for those who went on the mission and Tony had been moping around in the workshop because Captain fucking America hadn’t needed Iron _“You’re too flashy for stealth”_ Man for the latest one.

“I called you twenty times. Twenty times! You invented the phone, Stark!”

Tony opened his mouth to protest, but Steve bulldozed past him. “Is it too hard to check your phone?”

There were so many things Tony wanted to argue about. So many, oh so awful wrong things, but. Since Steve was so adamant about lecturing him on the importance of checking the phone, Tony rounded on him and sneered, “Ever heard of post-it, Cap? Bright, obnoxious little papers? Sometimes, they work better because not everyone likes to hang onto their phone 24/7.”

Steve bristled. Tony preened. Then Steve, with his Captain America strut, marched towards one of Tony’s many working desks, fiddled with something for ten seconds and returned with that same pinched expression on his face, but now, it’s accompanied by a smug smirk.

The more Steve closed in, the more Tony tensed because the man didn’t seem to be slowing down and Tony was above running for his life even in the freak possibility of getting slammed to death by a super soldier. Then, something happened. Steve stopped, right before their chests collided and he slapped Tony in the forehead.

“What the -,”

“There. I posted it.”

Again. So many wrong things – Just – “Oh my god,” Tony exclaimed, peeling off a neon green post-it stuck on his forehead. It read; _Come to debriefing, asshole_ , and Tony stared until his eyes started watering before the shock wore out and he realised that Steve had left before Tony could yell at him a good comeback. Not that he could think of any at the moment…

The second post-it appeared in courtesy of Tony who stopped by the kitchen at fuck-o’clock on day and stared at the stove for too long his brain started pulling out memories from the times when he made it to breakfast; brightly lit kitchen with Natasha steeping a cup of tea, Bruce already sipping on his, Clint perched on the refrigerator stealing pancakes Steve’s cooking at the stove and –

The stove.

It was absolutely unnecessary. But Tony thrived from doing dumb shits from time to time, so he made a journey to and back from the workshop all because he wanted to stick a post it on the stove so in a few hours, when Steve set to cook his daily pancake pile, he’d find a blue post it with a clumsy sketch of him catching on fire.

The third one was on Tony’s nose when he startled awake in the workshop. It said one word; _eat_ , and there was a plate of saran wrapped sandwich by his elbow. Tony stuck a _delish_ in neon pink when his hand ‘accidentally’ brushed against Steve’s rear during his coffee break venture to the communal area.

They didn’t do it very often, but each one got its reply without a miss. Didn’t matter who started it, if it was a mockery or a genuine message, every single one received its reply; sometimes plain, sometimes cheeky, sometimes dry and still angry. It became a Steve and Tony thing. What started as a curious reaction, evolved into a teasing one from the team.

When a smiley face started showing up from Steve’s, Tony went mad with drawing emoticons on his. At one point, even when they were verbally communicating; Steve chiding Tony about something while curled up on his spot in the workshop with his sketchbook and Tony welding while bantering word for word with Steve, Tony paused to scribble something completely off topic on a post it and wheeled to where Steve was to stick it on the back of his sketchbook.

Steve barely paused in his verbal argument. The hour passed and as Steve closed his book and stood up, stretching the kinks out of his body, Tony looked away from the schematic and at him. Steve walked towards him, picked up one of the many obnoxious colour post-its scattered around on Tony’s work table – orange -, scribbled something large and stuck it on Tony’s cheek before pressing a kiss over it.

It read, _YES_ to Tony’s; _go out with me._

After that, they started to be more… cheesy, sometimes sappy, a little bit snarky and a whole lot of suggestive and wildly raunchy.

“Jesus Christ.” Clint exhaled on a rush once. When he had come across the note Tony had meant for Steve. In Clint’s defence, it was _in the communal area!_ In Tony’s defence, _I thought you were visiting Laura and your tiny agents!_ When Steve blushed red; partly from embarrassment and partly from exasperation, Tony added weakly, “It was supposed to be our thing.”

If that didn’t teach the rest of the Avengers to turn blind against every post it they come across, then their suffering was entirely by choice.

And then, the accords happened; like an avalanche, Barnes followed the fall and Steve and Tony’s newly blossomed relationship suffered their weights. Steve was mad because Tony didn’t tell them earlier about the accords, Tony was mad because Steve was choosing to save Barnes instead of their team and then – he was mad at Steve for a whole other reason.

Barnes didn’t even matter, but at the same time, Barnes was all that made the difference.

“Did you know?”

“Tony -,”

“All those time,” _All those touches, kisses, post-it notes,_ “Don’t bullshit me, Rogers! Did you know?”

Steve look hardened, his blue eyes, hidden behind his cowl glanced hurriedly at Barnes behind Tony. When he looked back at Tony, they were pleading. “I had suspicion -,”

“You asshole!”

“I had suspicion, Tony! Don’t be a, a dumbass.”

Barnes snorted then clamped his nose and mouth in surprise. Aghast and still roiling with hurt, Tony took a surprised step back from Steve. “Excuse me?!”

Steve gritted his teeth, “I didn’t know.” He hissed. “I didn’t know _exactly_ -,”

“Oh fuck you.” Tony snarled, gauntlet encased fingers reaching to run through his hair in frustration. “Fuck you, Rogers.” He glared at his boyfriend.

Outside, copter blades were slashing through Siberian winter, getting louder and louder. Steve’s eyes go back to Barnes and returned to Tony’s in panic. “Tony -,” He started.

“Go.” Tony said, keeping his focus zero-ed in on Steve and Steve alone. He could hear Barnes panicking behind him as well but he’s too busy pretending that he didn’t exist at the moment. There was a mountain of issue Tony had to go through before he could look at the man.

“Tony, I -,”

“Go.” Tony pressed, he didn’t know how orders worked, but in that moment, he tried his best and watched numbly as Steve took off with his friend. His own _‘so was I’_ ringing in his head.

A month later, when Tony gathered enough of his wit to leave the workshop and visit his bedroom he’d been religiously avoiding in fear of being reminded of his runaway boyfriend, he walked into the bathroom to find a white post-it on the mirror; _HEY_.

Swallowing the rising panic, Tony looked away from the post-it to find the mirror reflecting Steve standing tall behind him; looking rugged and still unfairly hot with his grown out hair and beard. If Tony wasn’t missing him more than he was mad at him, he would have had the immunity against the puppy dog eyes Steve assaulted him with.

But as it was, Tony was helpless and he stood biting hard on his bottom lip to keep it from wobbling. Steve mouthed ‘I’m sorry’. Tony glared at him and pulled a shaky breath in before spinning on his heels to collide hard against Steve’s chest. “Asshole.” He exhaled, but there was no bite to it.

Steve was warm, smelled of metal and smoke and perfect around him. He kissed Tony’s head and whispered, “Love you.” Tony didn’t say it back because he was still mad. He was also exhausted. Steve stayed for two days before he had to move so they don’t get suspicious on Tony. It was a life on the run for him, for as long as it took for Tony to work the pardons for them and give America its Captain again. But before he left, Tony hugged him tight, kissed him and slapped a post it on his forehead; _Be safe_.

**Author's Note:**

> eh...[fluffy friday](https://inkiniris.tumblr.com/post/189365818897/stevetony-post-it-war-in-honour-of-fluffy)it is


End file.
